Three women had a very late night drinking. They left in the early morning hours and went home their separate ways. The next day, they all met and compared notes about who was drunker the night before. The first girl claims that she was the drunkest, saying, "I drove straight home and walked into the house. As soon as I got through the door I blew chunks for 10 minutes." The second said, "You think that was drunk? Hell, I got into my car and wrapped my car around the first tree I saw. I don't even have insurance!" The third proclaimed, "Damn, I was the drunkest by far. When I got home, I got into a big fight with my husband, knocked a candle over, and burned the whole house down!" The room was silent for a moment. Then, the first girl spoke out again, "Listen girls, I don't think you understand...Chunks is my dog." A 'little bird' sent me that, the sick cow!
<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Disorder: Did you hear about the dyslexic Devil worshipper who sold his soul to Santa?...<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> hey bitch!
HANGOVER RATINGS 1 STAR HANGOVER (*) No pain. No real feeling of illness. Your sleep last night was a mere disco nap which is giving you a whole lot of misplaced energy. Be glad that you are able to function relatively well. However, you are still parched. You can drink 10 bottles of water and still feel this way. Even vegetarians are craving a cheeseburger and a side of fries. 2 STAR HANGOVER (**) No pain. Something is definitely amiss. You may look okay but you have the attention span and mental capacity of a stapler. The coffee you chug to try and remain focused is only exacerbating your rumbling gut, which is craving a full English breakfast. Last night has wreaked havoc on your bowels and even though you have a nice demeanour about the office, you are costing your employer valuable money because all you really can handle is aimlessly surfing the net and writing junk e-mails. 3 STAR HANGOVER (***) Slight headache. Stomach feels crappy. You are definitely a space cadet and so not productive. Anytime a girl walks by you gag because her perfume reminds you of the random gin shots you did with your alcoholic friends after the bouncer kicked you out at 1:45 a.m. Life would be better right now if you were in your bed with a dozen donuts and a litre of coke watching Good Morning with Richard and Judy. You've had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water, 2 Sausage Rolls and a litre of diet coke. Yet you haven't peed once. 4 STAR HANGOVER (****) You have lost the will to live. Your head is throbbing and you can't speak too quickly or else you might honk. Your boss has already lambasted you for being late and has given you a lecture for reeking of booze. You wore nice clothes, but that can't hide the fact that you missed an oh-so crucial spot shaving, (girls, it looks like you put your make-up on while riding the bumper cars). Your teeth have sweaters, your eyes look like one big vein and your hair style makes you look like a reject from the class picture of Moss side secondary school circa 1976. You would give a weeks pay for one the following - 1. Home time 2. A duvet and somewhere to be alone. 3. A time machine so you could go back and NOT have gone out the night before. 5 STAR HANGOVER (*****) aka Dante's 4th Circle of Hell You have a second heartbeat in your head that is actually annoying the employee who sits next to you. Vodka vapour is seeping out of every pore and making you dizzy. You still have toothpaste crust in the corners of your mouth from brushing your teeth. Your body has lost the ability to generate saliva, so your tongue is suffocating you. You'd cry but that would take the last of the moisture left in your body. Death seems pretty good right now. Your boss doesn't even get mad at you and your co-workers think that your dog just died because you look so pathetic. You should have called in sick because, let's face it, all you can manage to do is breathe...very gently. 6 STAR HANGOVER (******) otherwise known as the "Infinite Nutsmacker" You wake up on your bathroom floor. For about 2 seconds you look at the ceiling, wondering if the cool refreshing feeling on your cheek is the bathroom tile or your vomit from 5 hours ago. It is amazing how your roommate was as drunk as you, but somehow manages to get up before you the next morning....You try to lift your head. Not an option. It is when you turn your head too quickly only to smell the funk of 13 packs of cigarettes in your hair, that suddenly you realize you were smoking, but not ultra lights...some jackass handed you Marlboro reds, and you smoked them like it was your second full time job. You look in the mirror only to see remnants of the stamp "Ready to Rock" faintly atop your forehead......that explains the stamp on the back of your hand that has magically appeared on your forehead by alcoholic osmosis. You have to be to work in t-minus 14 minutes and 32 seconds and the only thing you can think of wearing is your pajamas and your slippers. Your decision to phone into work is clinched by the fact that mere candlelight produces the a feeling not unlike shards of glass being shoved through your eyes into your brain.
